The Neighbor
by JamiW
Summary: Sequel to Upstate, which is part of the "In From the Cold" world. Logan/Rodgers


**Logan POV**

* * *

"You know, mine's in three months."

"I know when your birthday is," Liz responded, a slight amused smile on her face.

"I know you know," I replied as I shifted closer to her, moving until I was directly in front of her, holding onto the edge of the hot tub with a hand on either side of her head. "I'm saying…maybe we come back here for my birthday. It'll be warm. We can go skinny-dipping in the lake."

"You don't need an excuse to get me to take a trip with you. Or to get me naked," she said as she slipped her hands just barely inside the waistband of my swimming trunks in an effort to keep me positioned between her legs.

As if I'd ever want to be anywhere else.

Although with the powerful jets set on high, it's tough to keep from floating away.

Last night, we enjoyed the hot tub without our suits, but that was under the cover of darkness.

Without a neighbor.

Now it's nearly midday on Saturday and we have this yo-yo camped out next door, so we put on our suits. Not that I care if that mope wants to look at anything I've got, but he's damn sure not going to get an eyeful of Liz.

"I'm just thinking that a year's a long time," I continued as I leaned in to capture her lips with mine.

"Uh huh," she murmured. She adjusted her grip on my trunks, sliding her hands around to the back and then slipping one hand inside, running it lightly over my butt.

"And if we come back here…"

"Sorry to interrupt, neighbors!" a voice called out, and I quickly pulled back from Liz as it hit me just how close that person had come while I was understandably distracted.

All the way onto our back porch.

If I were packing anything more than a raging hard-on, this guy would be in some serious trouble, but unfortunately my forty-five is inside the cabin. I honestly hadn't imagined needing it while relaxing in the hot tub, but I guess I was wrong.

"What can we do for you?" I asked him with obviously forced casualness, because how rude is it to just show up on someone else's back deck? And dangerous? Because again, if I had my gun…

"I just got here late last night, and…"

"Yeah, we saw," I interrupted. "You don't care much for suitcases, huh?"

"No," he answered, and I was glad to see that he was puzzled by my observation. And his mood altered slightly as he narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to one side. "You were watching me?"

"I looked out to see who was making so much noise," I deflected. "Now I know. And if you don't mind, my wife and I are kind of in the middle of something here, so…"

I didn't look over at Liz to see her response to my little white lie, but _he_ looked at her. For entirely too long, as far as I'm concerned.

And I really don't like the feeling of vulnerability that comes from me being in this tub while he's standing on solid ground, so I reached over to the control panel and turned off the jets and then made my way to the side closest to the stairs.

Besides, now that my body has had time to calm down, I figure a little bit of male posturing won't hurt because…well, for a lot of reasons, but the main one being that he needs to get his ass off my porch.

If he's got something to ask us, he can knock on the front door like a normal person.

"I'm sorry," he said with feigned amicability. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I'm Dave."

He extended his hand to me just as I stepped onto the deck, and even that was a calculated move.

Because there's snow on the deck, and while it's perfectly comfortable sitting in the hot tub while there's snow on the ground, it's not so nice on the bare feet for more than a few seconds after getting out, so standing here shaking his hand instead of moving past him to step into my slides isn't exactly smart.

But I'm not about to show him any weakness.

I stood firm, my feet buried in roughly three inches of snow, and I shook his hand while less-than-subtly appraising him. But I still didn't offer my name.

And I don't know what it is about him that has my cop-alarm ringing like a school bell, but it is, and that alarm has served me well for more than two decades on the force, so I'm not going to ignore it now.

"We didn't come up here to make friends, Dave," I said as he continued to tightly grip my hand.

And yeah, it's my right hand, so yeah, it's starting to hurt.

Starting to…hell, it hurts like a son of a bitch, but I just squeezed him right back and added, "Nothing personal, though, right? We're just on our honeymoon, so…"

"Got it," he answered. "Sorry to bother you. I was hoping that maybe you had some wood to spare. I'm down to my last bundle, and the lodge is out at the moment, and I don't want to have to drive into town, but…"

"I can give you a bundle," I answered. "I'll bring it over in a little while."

"Or I can just take it now."

"It's inside," I said.

"Okay," he replied, as if I would just let him walk inside and get it.

"So I'll bring it over later," I stated firmly.

He finally released my hand and as I stood there, with my hand throbbing and my toes numb, I regarded him carefully, making sure to stand up to my full six-four height so that I was slightly taller than him, even though he's wearing hiking boots.

"That'd be great, um…I'm sorry, what did you say your name is?"

"I didn't," I answered. "I'll see you in an hour or so."

He nodded slowly and then looked past me to where Liz was still in the hot tub.

"Nice to meet you," he told her, flashing her what I'm sure he thinks is a charming smile. "And congratulations."

He turned to leave and I stood watching him until he was across the tiny yard that separates the cabins and heading inside of his own place.

"What was that about?"

I stared after Dave for another moment, and then I turned and quickly climbed the stairs, getting back into the hot tub.

"God damn it's cold," I grumbled, pushing the button to restart the jets.

"Mike…"

"I wasn't going to try to explain our relationship. It was just easier to…"

"You think I'm upset because you called me your wife?" she asked, reaching for me as I approached her, and then pulling me back into the position we were in before we were so rudely interrupted.

She slid one hand around the back of my head and then kissed me so enthusiastically that I almost forgot about the nosy neighbor.

"I'm not," she continued. "I actually really like the sound of it. But I'm wondering what's got you so spooked about that guy."

"I don't know," I admitted. "But something. People don't just do that. They don't show up on a stranger's porch. They don't ask for a handout for the sole purpose of avoiding a ten-minute drive. I'm telling you, Liz. He's up to something."

"Which is why you didn't let him take the wood now," she said. "You want the opportunity to try to snoop at his place."

"Was I that obvious?"

"No, but I know you, remember?"

"Yes, you do," I agreed, my body finally relaxing marginally as her hands stroked over my skin. "And I know you, too, so I'm wondering why you stayed out of the whole confrontation."

"You think I'm not the quiet and meek let-my-man-do-the-talking type?" she asked on a laugh.

"I know you're not."

"Yeah, well here's a little secret about me. Watching you flex your muscle in front of that guy was making me hot, so I'm thinking that every once in a while, I might sit back and let you break bad on people."

"It makes you hot, huh?" I asked teasingly. "Because I can call him back over here and whip his ass, if you want."

"Maybe next time," she said, bringing her lips to mine for another crushing kiss, and I started to pull away, to suggest that we take it inside now that I know Dave the nut-job doesn't seem to have a problem crossing boundaries.

But then she slipped her hand inside the front of my trunks, wrapping her hand around my hard-on, which had come back in full force the moment she first kissed me, and so I shoved Dave to the far corners of my mind.

_He won't come back_, I reasoned. Not right now, anyway.

And it's hard to believe that only a minute ago, I was shivering from the cold because now I'm so damn hot that I can't think about anything but stripping off her suit and burying myself inside of her.

I slid one strap off her shoulder, running my fingers underneath and then gently sweeping the fabric out of the way so that I could cover the round fullness of her breast with my hand.

She sighed heavily, leaning her head back against the edge of the hot tub, and I took advantage of the increased access to kiss and taste my way down her throat while at the same time, I lightly kneaded her breast for a moment, appreciating how it perfectly fills my palm, and then I switched my attention to the other, moving her suit out of the way so that both were revealed.

Uncovered, but still under the water, so I moved one leg underneath her, propping her up just enough so that her chest rose above the waterline, because simply touching her isn't enough. I have to taste her, too. I ran my tongue over her hot, damp skin, and her breathing quickened, encouraging me to step up my efforts. As I continued to work my mouth over her breasts, I slid my hand down between her thighs, going instinctively to the exact right spot. I rubbed against her, lightly at first, over top of her suit, and then I increased the pressure slightly. But it wasn't enough. The material of her suit, thin as it was, kept me from her heat, so I slipped my fingers under the edge of her suit, reaching beneath it until I was once again in the right spot, only this time, with nothing in between us.

She moaned her approval, and at the same time, I heard the door slam on the cabin next door.

I quickly retracted my hand and moved my leg so that Liz was back under the water while she readjusted her suit. Not because that mope can see us from over there, because he can't. Our cabin is on a small hill, so that, combined with the height of the hot tub, makes it impossible for him to see us from his place.

Of course, if he were to venture back over here…damn, I'm going to have to kill him.

Who would've thought that we can't even find privacy in the goddamn Adirondacks?

"Let's go inside," I told her as I stared in the direction of Dave's cabin.

"He's not going to come back," she stated reasonably.

"He could be an axe murderer for all we know," I retorted, and then, because I know that I probably sound a little paranoid, I turned back around and reached for her hand as I added playfully, "And I'd really hate to get whacked before we have the chance to get married."

"Is this supposed to be you, being romantic?" she asked teasingly as a smile spread across her face. "Besides, we're already married. I mean, you said it to Dave, so it must be true, right?"

"It's true in my dreams, sweetheart," I said, and then I pulled her to me and kissed her hard before reluctantly reaching over to turn off the jets. "Come on. Let's go inside and I'll dry you off in front of the fire."

"That sounds like an offer I can't refuse."

So that's what we did. We climbed out of the tub and quickly went inside the warmth of the tiny cabin, and then, after locking the door and closing the blinds, I stepped out of my trunks and then stood with her in front of the fire, where I slowly peeled off her bathing suit.

Her skin was red from the hot water and it was somehow simultaneously warm and cold to the touch as I ran a towel over every inch of her, and then I tossed the towel and repeated the process, this time using my hands and my mouth.

Within minutes, I had her moaning again, just like before, and if that's not a hell of an ego boost, then I don't know what is.

And then, while I was kneeling in front of her, set on continuing my assault on her until she screamed out my name, I could feel her trembling as she said, "Mike…please."

And the sound of her begging just about did me in…knowing that I've got her so worked up…so in the moment that she can't wait another minute, and that she trusts me enough to admit it.

I honestly had no idea that loving someone would feel like this. And maybe I thought I was in love before, but it's clear to me now that I couldn't have been.

I brought her down to the floor with me and as soon as she was stretched out beneath me on the thick fur rug, I pushed into her, hard and deep, in one fluid motion, and then I captured her hands in mine, holding them above her head as we started a slow, but passionate rhythm. I watched her as she fought to keep her eyes open, her face the picture of pure pleasure and I was hit with so goddamn much emotion…

And then I remembered that I was saying something to her earlier, when we were interrupted.

I was talking about coming back here for my birthday, but maybe we need to go somewhere with a little more privacy.

And maybe I don't need to be pushing the issue anyway.

I got a commitment from her, that she'll say yes in another year, so maybe I shouldn't be greedy.

And then she shifted slightly and the change in position allowed me to push in just a little deeper and God that feels good and it must feel good to her because when I did it, she settled her eyes on mine and whispered harder and so of course I had to do it harder and I completely forgot about questions and answers and everything else except Liz.

And after several more minutes, I finally got my wish of hearing her scream out my name and I was so close that the sound of her saying my name with such pleasure took me right along with her.

"You know, I was wrong," I said after we'd been lying still for several minutes. I was still on top of her, covering her slight body with my much heavier one, but she swears that she enjoys the feeling, and I know I do.

"About what?" she asked contentedly.

And maybe it's cheesy of me to bring this up, but since I had the revelation, I feel like I have to share it. I want to share everything with Liz, and for some reason, she seems to accept everything about me.

It's both baffling and humbling.

I levered myself up on my forearms so that I could stare into those azure eyes of hers, and I said, "I thought I was in love before. You know, once or twice over the years. But I wasn't. I couldn't have been because I've never felt for anyone what I feel for you. No one else has even come close."

"You're supposed to say that when you're trying to talk me into sleeping with you, not after you've already had me," she replied, and maybe her response sounds glib, but her eyes were shiny with unshed tears and her sarcasm is just a defense mechanism.

Hell, we both use it. It's protection against showing too much emotion, and it's served us well throughout our lives.

But we don't need to do that anymore, not with each other.

"If I were only saying it as a line, then you might have a point," I stated, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear. "But I'm not. I love you so much."

"Me, too," she answered immediately, and then she moved her hand around to the back of my head, encouraging me to lean in for a kiss. It was slow and gentle and I think I could just stay here in this cabin with her forever.

Or anywhere, really, as long as I'm with her.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm not trying to make light of it. It's just…it's so hard for me to accept it. That you're here with me, that you love me…"

"That I want to marry you," I added with a smile.

"That, too," she agreed as a slow smile spread across her face. "I mean, I was alone for a long time. And now we've been together for…"

"Five weeks and five days," I finished. "Plenty long enough for the newness to wear off, don't you think?"

"And yet you're still here," she said, almost sounding amazed, and it hit me again how many issues she has with self-esteem. Not in her professional life, obviously, but I guess after Chuck and Danny and whoever else came in between…I don't know, I guess she has a hard time understanding what I see in her.

And I get that, since I've suffered from some of the same insecurities.

"Get used to me, sweetheart," I said as I leaned down for another kiss. "Because I'm not going anywhere."

We stayed on the rug for another half-hour or so, talking and kissing, and then we finally decided that we should do something with our day aside from soaking in the hot tub and making love.

"I'll fix us lunch while you take a bundle of wood over to the neighbor," she suggested.

"You trust me to go alone?" I asked her, waggling my eyebrows as I got to my feet. I reached for her hands, pulling her up to stand in front of me.

"Of course I do. Just behave yourself. Let's not spend the rest of the weekend with the local police, okay? So don't start trouble."

"Me? Start trouble?" I replied mischievously.

We went into the bedroom and got dressed, and then she headed for the kitchen and I grabbed a pre-wrapped stack of wood and left the cabin.

And I'm packing heat this time, of course.

Because now that my lust has been satisfied for the time being, I can focus a little more on that nagging spidey sense.

I crossed the yards and walked directly beside Dave's car, surreptitiously glancing through the windows as I passed.

_He must've hauled everything inside_, I mused. The black leather seats were free of personal items, as were the floor boards. I committed the Pennsylvania plate number to memory and then knocked on Dave's door.

"It's my no-name neighbor," he answered with seemingly contrived enthusiasm.

Way too damn much enthusiasm, if you ask me.

And he stood with one hand still on the door, holding it open just enough so that he could stand in the opening, but not enough for me to see past him.

"Uh huh," I said with a nod. "Here's your wood."

"Thanks, I really appreciate it," he said, taking the stack from my hands and starting to close the door.

"Why?" I asked quickly, not ready for our chat to be over.

"Why what?'

"Why hit me up for wood just to save a ten-minute drive?"

"You must not get out into nature much. You're from the city, aren't you?"

"Why would you say that?"

"New York plates," he stated, tipping his head towards my car. And even though I'd checked out his plates, I sure as hell don't like it that he checked out mine. "And out here in the sticks, people act neighborly towards one another. We share our supplies. And our names."

"So from where in Pennsylvania do you get your out-in-the-sticks experience?" I fired back.

"Pittsburgh."

"Yeah, because that's not a big city at all."

He chuckled humorlessly and said, "I come up this way a lot."

"Oh, on business? What is it that you do, Dave?" I asked him confrontationally.

"Look, you know, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I shouldn't have intruded on your privacy earlier, and I apologize about that. Won't happen again, I promise. I'm just a guy who likes to get away from the smog and the traffic and the stress of life in a big city by coming into the mountains on the occasional weekend, okay? And most of the time, I meet some pretty nice people up here, but you know, if you and your wife don't want to socialize, then I understand. I certainly didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, and…"

"It's fine," I interrupted, having heard enough.

Because maybe I am overreacting. I mean, the guy didn't really do anything, other than have an astonishing lack of luggage and a poor sense of borders.

I relaxed my stance and said casually, "Maybe I'm just still trying to unwind from the stress myself."

He nodded and then stepped back briefly so that he could set down the wood and then he turned to me again and stuck out his hand as he said, "Let's try this again. Dave Morris."

"Mike Logan," I answered as I shook his hand. "And you know, I've got plenty of wood, so if the lodge doesn't stock any more and you run out…"

"Then I'll come to your front door and knock," he finished with a smile. "Thanks, Mike."

I talked to him for another minute, and then I headed back for the cabin, completely on the fence as to the motives of my neighbor. Although him interrupting what I wanted to ask Liz earlier is grounds for violence, as far as I'm concerned.

"I didn't hear any gunfire," Liz commented as I went inside.

"No, I just strangled him with my bare hands," I replied.

"Speaking of, let me see your hand," she commented as she stepped away from the kitchen counter. I'm not sure what she's fixing, but the whole cabin smells really good, and it hit me that it's been hours since we've had anything to eat.

"My hand's fine," I deflected. "What'd you make?"

"Mike…"

Is it weird that I love her stubbornness? Because the look on her face as she stood in front of me, holding out her hand so that I'll set mine in hers for inspection…it just makes me smile.

"Yes, ma'am," I answered as I offered her my hand. "Sheesh, we've only been fake-married for a couple of hours and you're already nagging me."

"When it comes to your health, I'll nag all I have to," she mumbled as she examined the mostly-healed entrance and exit wounds on my hand. Then she looked up at me with concern and said, "It feels swollen. Is it sore? You were putting too much weight on it while we were making love."

"It's only a little sore," I admitted as she continued running her fingers over the tender area.

And I love the easy way she said making love. Like it's completely normal.

Because it is. And we do.

I started to tell her that the tenderness was actually because of the overtly masculine handshake with Dave, but then she said, "For the next few days, you have to let me be on top, okay? It's not good for it to be under so much pressure."

Her sensible statement sent my imagination into overdrive.

"Or we can do it standing up," I said suggestively, breaking into a grin. "Or maybe I'll bend you over the back of the couch."

"We can do it hanging from the rafters as long as you're not using your right hand," she replied wryly.

I looked up at the wide beams across the ceiling, as if I were speculating their durability, and she laughed as she shook her head and said, "It was a figure of speech."

She let go of my hand and turned her attention back to the food cooking on the stove, and I moved behind her so that I could look over her shoulder.

"Stew?"

"It's the pre-made stuff we bought at the market last night. Don't get too excited," she said as she filled up a couple of bowls. She handed one to me, and together we sat down at the table, and then she said, "So tell me what happened next door."

"Not much. He's from Pennsylvania."

She raised an eyebrow at me, and I added, "Yeah, okay, so I got more than that. He wouldn't let me inside, but still…he's six-one, two-twenty, left-handed…his car is an '08 Sentra with almost two hundred thousand miles on it. And he might actually be from Pittsburgh, but he's from somewhere else before that, somewhere south of the Mason Dixon line. His eyes are brown, but he's wearing contacts, so that might not be their real color. Oh, and his tan is spray-on."

"That's more along the lines of what I was expecting," she said on a laugh. "Shoe size? Plate number?"

"Eleven and a half. And 1ERG297."

"Uh huh. And did you call Bobby yet to have him run the guy and the tags through the system?"

"Um…"

"Oh, that's right. No cell service."

"No, but I was thinking maybe after we eat, we can walk over to the lodge, and I'll use the phone there," I suggested.

"You do that while I clean up, and then when you get back, we'll take a hike up to Castle Rock," she countered.

"Then when we come back from there, I'll grill the steaks," I added.

She flashed me a smile and leaned across the table to kiss me as she said softly, "And then we'll test out those rafters."

Thirty minutes later, I was in the lodge, dialing Bobby's number.

"Goren," he answered.

"It's me," I said. "Are you busy?"

"Not really, but you should be."

"I have been. Believe me. But I need a favor."

"Shoot."

"There's this guy staying next door, and he's…I don't know. Off, somehow. I thought maybe you'd run him and see if anything pops."

Bobby chuckled at me, and then he told me to hold on for a minute, and I could hear him explaining the situation to Alex while he powered on his computer.

"So what's his deal?" he asked me when he came back on the line.

"He showed up late last night, with a lot of stuff and no bags. And then today, Liz and I were in the hot tub, and he was suddenly standing right there on our porch, asking to borrow wood."

"There's a joke in there somewhere, Logan."

"Ha ha. I'm not kidding. The guy's not right. And I don't like the way he was checking out Liz, either."

"Okay, I hear you. Give me what you've got."

So I passed along the tag number for him to run, and I was slightly relieved to find that the car actually is registered to a Dave Morris of Pittsburgh, so at least that part of his story matches up.

It also allowed Bobby to properly search the database for any priors, since Dave Morris is a popular name and probably would've gotten a lot of false hits.

"A couple of traffic violations and a misdemeanor drug bust twenty years ago, but other than that, your guy's clean."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm not saying you're wrong about him. I'm saying he doesn't have anything else on his record," he clarified.

"Yeah, okay."

"But Logan…you've got better instincts than just about anybody. So have fun but lock your doors, okay?"

I talked to him for another couple of minutes and then I headed back to the cabin.

Maybe I _am_ wrong about this guy.

As I approached our front door, I could hear Liz's voice coming from inside.

Or rather, I could hear her laughter.

And I hear that sound a lot these days, but it's certainly not something I'd expect from her when she's alone.

I paused with my hand on the knob.

"It's not a problem," Liz was saying. "Just let me…"

"Here, let me help you."

The voice uttering that last statement was decidedly masculine, most definitely our oh-so-friendly neighbor Dave, and the time for me to wait and listen was over.

With one hand hovering near my forty-five that's still shoved in my pocket, and with my jealousy barely at bay, I opened the door in time to see Liz standing on a kitchen chair, reaching into a high cabinet.

She'd obviously recently showered, her blonde hair darkened from the dampness and combed back from her face, and she was dressed in a pair of shorts and my NYPD sweatshirt.

And while any other time I'd be appreciating the sight of the long, lean muscles in her legs and the graceful way she moves, right now all I can see is the way that this yo-yo is looking at her.

_And if this guy isn't up to something, I'll kiss his ass_, I thought viciously.

"Did you burn through all that wood already?" I asked him, closing the door hard behind me.

And believe me, it's not that I think I've walked in on something sordid.

Because I most definitely trust Liz.

But this fucking guy…I can't help but feel about five seconds away from tossing him against the wall and slapping on the cuffs. And maybe Goren couldn't find anything on his sheet, but I'm sure he'll help me trump up some charges.

"Mike. You're back," Liz said, and maybe it's just me, but it sounds like a little bit of relief in her voice.

I quickly crossed the room to where she was still standing on the chair.

Dave looked at me and offered to shake my hand again as he said, "Sorry to intrude, Mike, but I hear they're calling for a nasty Nor'easter tonight, and when I checked my stock, I realized that I'm out of candles, and you know how tricky the power can be in a place like this."

"I just came from the lodge," I said. "They've got plenty of candles."

"Yeah, you know, last time I was at this place, this cabin was mine, and I remembered there were a dozen or so stashed in the cabinet over the stove hood, so…"

Nice coincidence that he came to ask for them while I was gone.

What might've happened if I'd been gone any longer? And why did Liz let him in to begin with?

"Here they are," Liz said, still rummaging around in the cabinet. She handed me four candles, which I held out to Dave while I continued to pin him with a steely glare.

"Thanks, Mike. I appreciate it," he said cheerily, seemingly oblivious to my irritation, and yet there's no way he doesn't see it.

"Are you good now? You've got everything you need?" I asked him.

"I think I'm set. I'll try not to bother you folks again."

I followed him to the door and then closed and locked it behind him before turning back around to Liz.

"Don't say it," she stated as she stepped down from the chair. Then she surprised me by pulling a kitchen knife from her back pocket. "I was ready for him, if he tried anything."

"Liz," I said in disbelief, unsure whether to laugh or be mad.

"What? I trust your instincts, Mike. I don't care if he acts like a saint, if you think he's up to no good, then…"

"So why'd you let him in?"

"He wanted to come inside," she said pointedly. "Earlier, too, remember? And since he said he's stayed in this cabin before…"

"You think he left something behind?"

"I don't know, but I wanted to get a feel for what he wanted. So what'd you find out from Bobby?"

"Nothing. Speeding, a minor drug charge…that's it."

"And the car matches up?"

"Uh huh," I said thoughtfully, but then I shook my head and took the knife from her hand, setting it down on the counter before wrapping my arms around her. "You know what? I've wasted enough of our weekend thinking about that mope."

"Does that mean you don't want to help me search this place to see what he might've been looking for?" she asked me with a mischievous smile.

Have I mentioned how much I love her?

Most women would be ticked at me by now, for my obsessiveness, and yet Liz and I had a blast searching through every nook and cranny of the little cabin.

We made up scenarios as we went along.

"Maybe he's a drug mule and he hid his stash under a floor board," she posed.

"Or he's a fugitive and he's got a clean set of ID's around here somewhere," I added.

"Or…he's a serial killer and he's got a box of souvenirs from his victims."

We laughed about it, but I really hope she's wrong.

And after an hour of thumping on the floor and the walls and looking in cabinets and closets, we decided that enough was enough.

"Castle Rock is calling our name," I told her.

So we changed into warmer clothes and packed a few items in a backpack, and then headed outside.

Of course, I couldn't resist rigging up a little extra security. Or not really security per se, but…a poor man's way of knowing if someone enters the house.

"You've done that before?" Liz asked as she took my gloved hand in hers and we walked away from the cabin.

"Once or twice. I had this crazy ex-girlfriend once who liked to break into my apartment and rearrange my stuff, just to mess with me."

"She sounds…"

"Psycho?" I supplied. "Oh yeah."

We laughed for a minute and then she asked, "Do you think Dave's going to try to get back into our cabin?"

"Honestly? No."

"Why not?"

"I think he's going to wait us out. You were wearing my NYPD sweatshirt, so between that and my attitude towards him, he's probably pieced together that I'm a cop. If he really does have something stashed in our cabin, he's just going to wait until we check out and then he'll have time to do a proper search."

She nodded thoughtfully and then I added, "Or he could just be a nice, normal guy and I'm so jaded and cynical that it makes me suspicious."

She laughed again and leaned her head against my shoulder as she said, "I love your cynicism. It's rivaled only by mine."

"Oh, I'm definitely more cynical than you."

"No way," she argued playfully. "I'm the worst. Ask anyone."

We bantered back and forth for a few more minutes, and then I realized that my question from earlier was back on the tip of my tongue.

"We'll come back here in May," I said. "Okay?"

"For your birthday," she said with a nod. "Yeah, I'd really like that. Only maybe we rent out both cabins so that we won't have to worry about the neighbor."

"That's an excellent idea. But…I've been thinking…"

I trailed off, for some reason doubting myself, and she stopped walking, turning to look at me questioningly.

"You know, last night we said we'll come back next year," I continued at last. "And you said you'll agree to marry me."

"You make it sound like a hardship for me," she said lightly. "I'll agree to it? I'm actually pretty excited about it."

She smiled at me and she just looks so pretty, with her nose red from the cold, and a few strands of blonde hair escaping from underneath her pink stocking hat, and her eyes looking so unbelievably blue…

I couldn't help myself. I had to kiss her.

I took my time with it, too, letting it build for several minutes until I finally pulled away.

"What if I don't want to wait a year? I mean, I know that's what I said last night, but it seems like so far away, and, you know…you, saying yes to me in three months…that would be a hell of a birthday present."

"So that's why you want to come back here in May? So you can ask me to marry you?"

"Well, for that, and the skinny-dipping. And you know, if I can't manage the rafters with only one hand, then we might have to try that again, too."

She chuckled as she wrapped her arms around me, holding me tightly against her.

"I love you," she said. "And you're absolutely the best thing that's ever happened to me. But I thought you wanted to wait so that you can be sure."

"I wanted to give you the time to be sure," I corrected.

"I'm not changing my mind," she said without hesitation. "And as much as I swore off marriage…well, that was before you. And you can ask me next year in the mountains or next week in an elevator at 1PP. My answer's still going to be the same."

I let out a long, ragged breath, closing my eyes with the nearly overwhelming feeling of relief and disbelief, because I'd somehow managed to convince myself that she only said yes last night because I'd suggested waiting a year before asking.

But that's not why.

She said yes because she loves me.

I pulled back from her just enough so that I could look her in the eye, and then I took a deep breath and said, "What if I were to ask you today, on a snowy path leading up to Castle Rock?"

Three hours later, we were back in the cabin. Or rather, I was on the back deck lighting up the grill and Liz was inside, prepping the steaks.

When we got back, I'd checked out my make-shift burglar alarm and found that nothing had been disturbed.

Dave hadn't come inside while we were gone.

So maybe I_ am_ just cynical about the affability of strangers.

And speaking of strangers, Dave's car was gone from the adjoining gravel driveway. I guess he must have decided to risk getting caught in the pending snow storm rather than knock on our door again, and that's fine with me.

Now maybe we can have a night without any interruptions.

After all, we have a little bit of celebrating to do.

Because this afternoon, she said yes to me while the two of us stood on the side of the mountain.

Although we still agreed to wait a year before actually doing the deed.

In the meantime, I'll put my place on the market, since I'll be officially moving in with her.

And I'll buy her a ring.

And we'll plan a nice little ceremony to take place somewhere in the city.

The decision to wait a year isn't because I think she'll change her mind, or because she thinks I'll change mine.

It's just that it'll give us time to do it right.

And next year, when we come back for her birthday, we'll also be here for something else.

Our honeymoon.

**The End**


End file.
